Blood of My Pack
by P.A.W.07
Summary: Logan doesn't recover as quickly at the small clinic Laura dragged him to. It is just enough time for his half-brother to find him. Victor will help Jimmy if he wants the help or not. They are blood no matter how much they fight. Only problem is … he gets a feral niece with the packaged. Well, everyone is kind of feral in his pack, honestly. Fix-It of sorts.
1. Blood of My Blood

Blood of My Pack: Logan doesn't recover as quickly at the small clinic Laura dragged him to. It is just enough time for his half-brother to find him. Victor will help Jimmie if he wants the help or not. They are blood no matter how much they fight. Only problem is … he gets a feral niece with the packaged. Well, everyone is kind of feral in his pack, honestly.

Image: Logan Doodle by Blacksataguni.

Rating: Teen.

…

Little brother, little brother, come play in the woods.

It's full of mice and owls, and oh so many wolves.

…

Laura was waving her legs on the chair, staring at her hands and everything her dark eyes could take in. She had gotten Logan to the clinic on her own. She had even managed to drag him into the small waiting room, the fisherman none the wiser as to where his ride had gone. She had even filled out the paperwork as well as she could, in Spanish mostly, but all the doctor needed was his name. After all, the small-town doctor had been … amazed.

A real mutant.

Logan still had not woken on the second day. So, she had slept in the car despite the inquisitive doctor offering to put a cot next to her daddy's. She would guard outside.

Yet, there was that word: daddy.

Her daddy. She … still did not understand the concept entirely, but from what she understood a daddy was supposed to protect you. Even after how much she had seen, she couldn't wrap her mind around it. So many new thoughts had invaded her mind that didn't have to do with white walls and pain. So much pain. Always pain, but the professor's eyes had been kind and Logan's hands were rough but warm. When he was sleeping, unaware, she would run her fingers over his knuckles and over his hands to feel the scars and calluses. He smelled like her, and yet she could smell the sickness on him like a miasma.

She wanted to do something more. More like the instincts in the back of her mind were screaming that she should be the protector, but … there was so much she didn't know and she hated it. She wasn't strong enough to protect Logan.

And at this rate, if she stayed with him, she wouldn't get to Eden either.

These were choices a soldier could easily make, but … what of a girl that had just found her father?

So, she sat there the rest of the day, her pink glasses hanging off of her nose, Doctor James or the secretary coming and giving her snacks. He asked if there was any family to call, any family like them. She shook her head. She didn't know. Did he want to look for them?

And yet, somehow, another day having fallen into shadow and the sun rising, there was a clomp of heavy boots, the walk-in clinic's little bell ringing. The smell hit her immediately from over the top of her comic book (she took it, but had made sure no one had seen) and she raised her head. Danger and yet there was something so painfully familiar about him. He … smelled like Logan.

After gazing around, the daunting figure's dark eyes met Laura's gaze. He … was mutant.

She wanted to rear up and bare her teeth, growl even, but slowly the man looked away. He had other business here beside her.

The dark man quickly turned his heavy boots to the small clinic's only nurse and bookkeeper. The woman, so much like a mouse, blinked behind her glasses. She seemed ready to run, but professionalism kept her rooted, "May I help you?"

"Yeah," came a deep voice, growling like a predator's vocals. "Name's Victor Creed. I'm here to pick up my brother, Howlett. I hear … he's out of sorts."

Victor, not even waiting for the meek woman, then invited himself into one of the back rooms. Laura, rising to her feet, followed after like a lion through the grass. She had used the name in the limo. Howlett. She knew no other last name for her daddy. Perhaps Logan Howlett had not been a wise decision when she filled out the paperwork.

Sabretooth just pushed passed the rambling nurse, his neck cracking like he expected a fight when he opened that exam room door. Yet, when he opened it up, ready for one of their infamous fights as he tried to reclaim his brotherhood, a pack as his mind had labeled it over the years, Victor stalled.

There, in the bed, machines beeping and IV dripping, laid Jimmy. His little brother had turned gray and old, ragged breath as his wound remained bared to the world unhealing.

For a moment, if it wasn't for the scent, the larger mutant might have thought this man was someone else.

What … was this? Was this really little Jimmy?

Fight they may, like two wolves, but Jimmy was his and he was Jimmy's for nearly a hundred years. If one was injured or broken … you stayed and cared for them, mocking as they may. That was probably why, when Jimmy had left him, it had cut so deep. It cut more than the rage, the drugs, the hate and … jealousy. It had driven him almost mad when Jimmy had left him. He could have had the stupid woman. Could have bedded her, had her push out some feral little pups, but he abandoned his brother! Over a hundred years they had fought together, bled and got back up together, timeless together … and he walked away!

Victor wanted to bring out his claws, wanted to slash that weak aging form before him in perfect white sheets, but instead, his hand became a fist. He could not move forward. Instead, his nails dug into his palm sending droplets of blood to the floor like falling petals.

The moment lasted forever, a thousand rages daring to be given life only to die just as quickly, but with each drop of blood something else fell away. Slowly, Sabretooth looked at the droplets on the floor. His blood.

He looked and Jimmy, his brother.

Also, his blood.

Sighing, knowing there was going to be fighting and biting if he tried to help his half-brother, Victor slowly stepped forward and ran a hand over Logan's face, leaving a trail of blood behind. He was jealous of his brother. He had been for some time. Their father, Thomas Logan, bastard pig he was … had tortured Victor when his mutations started to appear. He would systematically drag him into the basement and pull out his sharp teeth. Pig-fucker! He should have been the one to gut their old man, but Jimmy had gotten to do it.

Jimmy had had a real father.

Jimmy had been … loved where Victor had not by a false father no less.

He knew it was stupid, pointless, to hate his brother for that. Jimmy deserved to gut the old man as much as him. They should have gutted him together.

The dark man stared at his brother's age lines, his words almost a whisper, "Jimmy, what happened to you? What the fuck happened to you?"

Victor then ran his claws through his brother's graying hair, his teeth baring themselves in distaste. Decisions quickly were being made. "That's it, Jimmy. I'm getting you out of this backward pit."

The older mutant then started to pluck off wires, machines wailing their mournful song. An aging doctor quickly entered from the only other exam room. "What are you doing? He is in no condition to be moved. He needs treatment."

Stalling, one arm around under Logan's shoulders, Victor growled at the aging doctor. "What the fuck for? He has healing abilities. He shouldn't even be here."

"B-be that as if may. His body is being poisoned by … something inside it. He needs treatment," defending the doctor.

Lip turning upward and showing his canines, looking down at the thin film of sweat on Logan's forehead, Victor Creed growled, "Then get me some damn drugs, old man. He's still coming with me. I'm his brother, and though he might want to kill me, I'm still older than him and can kick his ass. He's my blood … my pack."

The old doctor seemed confused, but jumped into action when Victor growled, "Now!"

James quickly came forward with a bag. Victor could see a few IVs, needles and pills. What had the man been planning? To take the dangerous mutant home? Hide him away? Or had he been waiting for someone just like Victor to come and hide Jimmy away like the endangered creatures they were becoming?

Victor decided not to question it. The man didn't even ask to be paid as Victor put his arms under his sibling's form, lifting him up in a bridal carry. Jimmy would have hated that if he was conscious enough to care. He was all but limp, though, the doctor placing a white sheet on top of the unconscious man along with an IV. He then stepped away, eyeing them both like they were unicorns. Doctor James simply had to say, "He needs treatment."

Canine bearing itself in irritation, Creed growled, "And he'll get it."

He would cut a liver out of the merc with a mouth if he had to if it would help Jimmy. Plus, he had money squirreled away from countless illegal activities. Not that it made him any happier. He was never happy. He hadn't been happy in a long time … since he had Jimmy were boys living in the woods like wolves in the late 1800s. He remembered those days … they were like no others.

Now, walking out of the clinic, the old doctor trying to ramble off instructions for the medications in the bag, he nearly dropped the heavy ass meat sack he called a brother when the doctor added, "And don't forget the girl."

Turning, shrugging so Jimmie's head would fall on his shoulder and not be smacked when he exited the door, Victor growled, "What?"

The aging man waved his hand to the young girl following behind them, the one with dark eyes and dark hair. "The girl, Laura."

"Why?" Victor questioned immediately, not in the mood for charades. The fucking metal skeleton was heavy.

"She's … his daughter. Your niece if you are his brother," said the doctor, finally becoming suspicious as he seemed to reconsider helping Victor. "You … don't know her?"

Standing there a moment, a confused sneer on his lips, Victor looked the girl up and down. How old was she? Eight? Fifteen? He sucked at guessing people's ages. Nonetheless, he sniffed the air, and there it was. The twinge. He … had thought it was Jimmy's sent, but no. This was less musky than sweat, wood, and cigars. It smelled a bit more like cucumbers and wood. Maybe a bit like the desert?

Regardless, she smelled like his brother.

"Fuck," said Victor, unable to stop himself. "When the hell did you happen? A bad binge in Mexico from the look of it."

The girl shifted on her feet like a wild animal. Huh. Well, she was certainly acting like her father's daughter. Feral. Fuck, who in their family wasn't?

Rolling his neck, bone cracking, Creed shrugging his head toward the door, "Well, open the bloody door then girl. Make yourself useful. Your dad is fucking heavy. And get the car door as well. It's the black SUV."

Eyeing him a moment more, Laura did as she asked, watching him for one wrong move. Victor eyed her as well but chose to ignore her in the end. He'd take the calm and quiet while he could, while Logan was an unconscious block, because when his younger brother woke up … there was going to be a lot of biting, kicking, and scratching.

All the more fun, he supposed, now that there was a little she-pup in the pack. He couldn't wait to see her claws.

XXX

Paw07: Logan The movie was so sad. I knew how it was going to be the end given the tone the previews were giving off, and it makes sense given Hugh Jackman is getting up there in years, but I always felt Wolverine was something that could … withstand time. Hell, the comics he is always the last to die. Nonetheless, I wanted something else. I couldn't help but notice he used his last name in the limo, Howlett, and then there was the lioness comment Xavier made about Laura and her _back claws_. Now, mix that with my brain, add some bittersweet angst that is kind of a fix it (not really), and my wish Wolverine Origins had ended a little differently and bam. This.

Now, I kind of hate the end of Wolverine's Origins, the new Deadpool 2016 is now my head cannon for Deadpool, but I love the beginning with Sabretooth/Victor being half-brothers having to wander war after war for hundreds of years. In fact, Future Past exists to kind of get rid of the things I hated about the movies: Jean in X3, Mute Deadpool in Origins, and probably a few other things I can't think of but hated. I need to sit down one weekend and watch all of them to refresh my memory. Nonetheless, if you like this, I may add a few chapters. Maybe make a mini-plot. Tell me what you think.


	2. There are Still Phone Booths?

Chapter 2: There are Still Phone Booths?

Jimmy still hadn't woken up.

Fuck.

Victor growled in irritation as he crawled into the back seat outside of a seedy motel where no one would be watching. Laura watched him over the top of the passenger seat like a weary dog the whole time. So far … she had been tolerable. Mind you, he hadn't stopped since he had gotten Jimmy in the SUV about six hours ago, but even he needed some rest. He also wanted to assess his half-brother's wounds … maybe feed the girl.

He heard a rumbling noise and looked up. Laura gave him a hungry look.

Especially feed the girl. She looked ready to eat someone's hand, and if she was anything like Jimmy when growing up, you don't get between her and her next meal unless you wanted to be bit. It had taken years for Jimmy to stop doing that after they finally came out of the woods.

Mind you, Victor had always bit him back.

Well, he saw a late-night burger place down the road. Maybe after he got the slab of meat settled in, he'd tell the girl to wash up while he went out. Ugh, both of them smelled like to high hell like old blood. He could probably dress Jimmy is some of his reject shirts, but the girl needed something. Holy hell, what did girls her age wear? Princess things? Butt pants? Actually, he believed they were called leggings, but nonetheless … He hated the current fashion.

Grunting as he tried to carefully drag the heavy ass metal skeleton out of the back seat, the older mutant finally got his arms under his brother. Lifting him up, Victor immediately smacked Jimmy's head into the car door.

The girl made her first sound ever, a growl. He looked at her and her bared teeth, hackles raised, "For fuck's sake, his skull is a block of metal, girl. Not the first time I've banged it around. So, drop your hackles and get the medicine and open the door. The keys are on the hood. Room 13."

The girl glared a moment more before she kicked the door open and headed to the room, holding the door open as Victor lugged his aging brother inside. He immediately plopped Jimmy down on the nearest bed and looked around, "Who the fuck decorated this place? The seventies?"

Nonetheless, he arranged Jimmy's limbs and even put a pillow under his head. He had checked over the wounds a little in the car, but it was disturbing to see that they had barely healed in the last six hours. Fuck. Feeling like he was dealing with glass instead of his usually impenetrable brother, Victor's nails poked and prodded at the cut flesh there. If he didn't know any better, these claw marks were Jimmy's. He hadn't done this to himself, had he? Just how sick was he? Had cue-ball done something to his head?

Looking at the angry red marks, Logan's heavy breathing felt like nails on a chalkboard, especially as the elder mutant watched that chest rise and fall. He needed answers … and immediately looked at the girl as she placed the bag of medicine on the nightstand.

He waved his claws at the wounds in his brother's chest, his voice even yet demanding, "What the hell did this? Did he do this to himself?"

The girl, having crawled onto a chair and placing her chin on her knees, stared at him with dark eyes as if thinking about his question. She shook her head.

Victor's lip twitched in irritation. Great. The girl was a mute, wasn't she?

"Do you at least know why he's sick?" growled Victor.

Again, the girl silently looked at him, eyes unwavering. Great, she was a creepy little fuck.

Sighing, awkwardly putting a new IV in when Logan released a rather shuddery gasp, he grumbled, "I'm going out for some food and bandages and shit. Take a shower. You smell horrible. Use one of my shirts from my duffle bag for a nighty or something. I'll be back shortly."

…

The first stop was a department store. He stared at some unicorn puke colored shirts for a few moments in the girl's section until some of the associates started giggling at him. He grabbed a few things angrily along with half of a pharmacy shelf. The only reason he knew anything about medical crap was because of too many wars. On the other side of the spectrum, he knew nothing of little girls even though he was sure he had spawned once or twice. Apparently, one of his kids had even stolen his name, Sabretooth, and worked for Magneto for a while. He heard the kid died from a fall. Nonetheless, he was quick to get out of that department store as the cashier eyeballed him as if he was a child thief.

He then went to a burger joint and purchased about ten meals. The pimply cashier stared at him in the drive-through as well like he had grown two heads. He was this close to reaching in and strangling the life out of the teenager. Instead, he resisted and demanded extra ketchup.

Three minutes later, one of the bags open, he sat near a gas station payphone going through his contacts list. He really should have questioned why there was still a bloody payphone around in this day and age, but it was easier than getting a disposable phone. He was making some calls to people he would rather not have his number.

Well, mostly one person. Fucker was un-killable at this point … though, he looked like roadkill for his trouble. His contact had apparently gotten cancer or some shit. That was why he had left Stryker's team. Everyone had thought he had died. Nonetheless, the fellow mercenary still got experimented on and now looked like an old avocado, but he had great healing abilities. So, avocado he may be, but Wade knew his shit. He just had a mouth on him that made people spill secrets like projectile vomiting.

Victor needed a safe place for Jimmy to recover and maybe an illegal doctor as well.

Picking up the payphone, the mutant dialed the number with a sneer on his lips. It rang about five times and went to voicemail. Wade had some irritating message about jacking off to the _Poltergeist_ movie which enraged the mutant to no end. He tried again after finishing some fries. He got the voicemail again … only this time it was Wade saying _beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep_ the whole fucking time. It took Creed three seconds to realize it wasn't a voicemail at all, but before he could even threaten the irritating bastard, Wade hung up on him.

"Okay, fucker. Kill you later," growled Victor as he picked up his phone again. He looked at this contact list for a moment. Who else was there? Let's see …

Suddenly, his personal cell phone went off. He stared for a moment … he didn't have any jobs right now. He had personally been looking for Jimmy the last few months. So, who the fuck was it? Answering with a gruff hello, guessing it was a job offer, Victor nearly crushed his cell phone in hand when the Merc with the Mouth, Deadpool, spoke on the other side, "You never write or text or even Facebook message me. Not even one dick pic in years. How can we have a real relationship if you never contact me except for when you want something?"

Victor's eye twitched. How the fuck had Wade gotten this number? And why weren't there more stable mutants around anymore? Well … there was Westchester. It took a lot of the older ones out. Who? It was a hard to tell. So many mutants' powers acted violently during their demise which destroyed the whole fucking area. It was hard to tell who died … and who took this as an opportunity to fade out of the light. He heard rumors, mind you, that some were still alive. Then again, they could just be ghost stories.

Wade, though his mutation was artificial, was at least was still around. He was one of the few people Victor wanted to stab more than Jimmy. "How the fuck did you get this number, Wade?"

"Oh, don't be like that, sugar lips. Is that any way to talk to an old friend? What's a restricted number between friends? It does get lonely really late at night sometimes."

Victor's eye twitched again, his nails digging into the hood of his SUV as he held back the urge to rage over the phone. That was exactly what Wade was after. Irritating little prick, but he had answers that Creed needed … He could always burn his phone later.

"Don't call me sugar lips unless you want to re-grow your liver," growled Victor.

"Oooh, kinky, but let's skip the foreplay, sweet tits, and get to the deep and heavy stuff. What are you calling for? Well, unless you would like to get into some foreplay. I was going to touch myself tonight and-"

"Shut … the fuck … up," barked Victor into the phone. "I don't need your mouth. Now, I know you've been looking around for more mutants, trying to start your own cheerleader team or some fuck because you never officially got into the X-Men. Did you ever run into a mutant doctor? Someone that works on our kind and asks few questions?"

Deadpool hummed on the other end as if thinking it over. "What? Trying to get experimented on? If you want to experiment, I hear Amsterdam has this engine powered dil-"

Teeth bearing, growl humming his throat, Victor was about to promise death on the other man when he stalled. Some military jeeps had just pulled into the gas station, a little odd, but not that odd. Until he was immediately hit by a scent. He knew it like the back of his hand. Deadpool was no longer important.

"God fucking damn it, Jimmy," he growled, ready to get to his feet and drag his brother back to the room, for he knew his brother's scent. How did he even get out of bed? But he stalled when the soldiers all got out of the jeeps and were flanked by a young Wolverine. No. No. It wasn't Jimmy. He didn't hold himself right and there was just something chemical about his scent … and when he looked in Victor's direction, this young Wolverine didn't even bat an eyelash.

What the fuck was this?!

Again, Creed's claws dug into the metal of the hood he was sitting on. Some fuckers were experimenting on mutants again. Were they the reason Jimmy was so sick? Crippled? And what was this doppelganger? It obviously couldn't think for itself with the way the soldiers were leading it around.

Well, whoever they were, no one experimented on his brother without Victor's consent … especially not to make meat dolls. Part of him wanted to get up, claw up these men and kill the meat puppet, but instead, he used his sharp eyes to see what symbol they carried, who they represented. He saw a binder in an older man's hand: Transigen. Idiots. They should know better than to label things.

Getting in his SUV, glad that the men in the jeeps took no notice of him, he growled over the phone, "Shut your mouth, Merc. Now, tell me where I can lay low and find a doctor. While you are at it … do you know any dirt on a company called Transigen. I apparently have a bone to pick with them."

XXX

Paw07: You know, I honestly hadn't planned on Wade showing up so soon, didn't even think I could pull him off, but bam right in everyone's face. Sounds about right. Anyway, I decided to continue this given the number of requests I had. Feel free to drop a few ideas.


	3. Breathing is Usually the Easy Part

Chapter 3: Breathing is Usually the Easy Part

Victor all but tromped into the room. He looked around and then sniffed. The girl seemed to have figured out the shower from the sound of it, the bathroom door shut, and she had also thrown the contents of his duffle bag everywhere. Little turd. Wonderful, she was irritating just like her father.

Picking up a shirt or two, the older mutant threw his bags of supplies and ruffled shirts near Jimmy's feet.

Checking the IV first, Victor sat down on the bed. Again, he could not look away from the age lines and graying hair. He finally forced himself to look away, to think of something besides his brother dying like a crippled old man. Yet, this had to be done. Conceding, he reluctantly turned his attention to Logan's chest. Jimmy was bleeding once again.

Grunting in irritation, Victor immediately dug through the medical bag the doctor had given him. He found a few syringes, antibiotics, and what looked like sedatives.

He placed it all to the side and picked up some gauze and salves. It was so odd having to care for Jimmy in this way. Yes, Victor helped when he was a sick kid, but that was a century ago. War was the only reason he knew first aid at all, as sad as that is to say.

Grumbling to himself, the gruff man started cleaning the wounds, feeling the heat they were giving off.

So many scars. So many wounds that weren't healing right.

Finishing the chest, a pile of red medical gauze on the night stand, Victor decided to check Jimmy's back.

Grunting as he hefted Jimmy up into a sitting position, awkwardly having the heavier mutant drool on him, the older mutant checked the injured man's back. Lip twitching in irritation, Victor carped to himself and allowed the younger mutant to plop back onto the bed when he was done. Well, here came the awkward part. He needed to get Jimmy out of those clothes. If there was a Wolverine look-alike, said doppelganger might be able to catch the original's scent. No need to risk it. He'd just dress the trouble maker in some of his reject clothes that had his scent on them and sneak the fuck out of dodge in the morning.

He'd have to dump the girl's clothes as well. Her new clothes would cover her scent for a while.

Nodding, deciding to get the boots first, he barely was tugging on the second boot, when Logan's eyelids fluttered, the unconscious man taking a deep invent. Victor was still for a moment. So, the runt was alive. Not that Victor was quite ready to deal with an angry Jimmy, especially since he wasn't sure how much memory the other man had recollected. Did he remember their father? The time they spent in the forest as kids? Did he even remember him?

Victor had dwelled a few times on going to cueball's school for whiney-little-bitches-that-can't-deal-with-their-powers a few times to confront Jimmy, but what was the point? What was the point of saying he was Logan's half-brother, expecting recognition and brotherhood? The moment Jimmy remembered him and the falling out they had, he would hate and abandon him all over again.

Plus, he was sure Xavier had had a bone to pick with him. The man had been sending out feelers before the events of Westchester, looking for him. Perhaps, he had just wanted to talk, to help put Logan's past together. He doubted that, though, since it was usually the infamous Cyclops looking for him. Given Xavier ran a school, he doubted the powerful mutant was out for revenge, but he also remembered the kid, Scott Summers, from the Island. A pair of eyes on that one … it probably would have been detrimental to his limbs if that X-Man remember him. That freak, Weapon XI, had had the same gaze and he wanted no part of it.

Poor bastard, little more than a mute pawn in the end. Wade was probably a lucky son of a bitch that he had gotten cancer first.

Regardless, Victor didn't like fucking with telepaths. You could fight pretty much any other mutation, but how could a non-telepath protect their mind? Charles would have to even push it. He could probably make slight suggestions and Victor would have never been any the wiser. He may never have known what decisions were his and which were altered without his knowing. He had allowed his father to control him as a child, to fuck with his mind and self-worth, never again.

No one would own him like that again, hurt him like that … Make him hate himself and what he was.

Victor berated himself at the thought. Sometimes, he felt that was why his father had wanted Jimmy so badly before his end. Jimmy had appeared to be normal. It was almost a shame that pig-fucker father of theirs hadn't truly seen how freakish both of his sons would become … and that it was all his fault.

Grinding his teeth at the thought of his father, his hate forever unsatisfied, Victor turned himself back to the issue at hand. First, he needed some place away from prying eyes so he could have a proper beat down and keep control of the situation. Logan didn't yield easily, sick or otherwise.

Where the hell was Wade and that safe house?

Letting go of the boot, leaving it for an awkward struggle later, Victor headed over to the medicine pile, grumbling, "As much as I would love to be stabbed by you today Jimmy, I'd rather not draw attention to us in this hot zone. Your doppel-fucking-ganger might look like a pansy ass pushover, but it's not something I am willing to test with your injured ass and an unknown pup. There are better ways to get killed."

He took out a needle and grabbed a vial. It was a sedative. Wonderful. In his weakened state, Jimmy probably wouldn't even metabolize it too quickly.

Patting the younger mutant's arm quickly to get a vein, Victor didn't even get the needle fully under the skin when there was a sharp intake of air. Victor's eyes shot up from the needle and met Jimmy's glazed gaze which was quickly becoming an angry sneer. Fucking-fantastic. He wasn't fast enough … and worse, Jimmy obviously hated needles. Not surprising, given Stryker's surgery of adamantium fun.

Then again, Jimmy was always the soft one. He just couldn't take a little trauma.

Victor wasn't even given time to push down on the syringe when Logan was upon him, roaring like a bloodthirsty savage. They both went down to the floor in a thump a second later, Logan and his heavier skeleton pressing down on his brother. Sabretooth automatically growled and went for a punch to the head. He tried not to bark in surprise when his knuckles came back aching. Fucking metal skull!

Before Victor could even get another punch in, the Wolverine was roaring, his claws coming out. Sabretooth's hand automatically went up to protect his throat, two and barely a third claw piercing his palm in a spray of blood.

Well, at least it wasn't his neck.

Exchanging his own roar, the older mutant brought out his claws, scratching them over Logan's already maimed chest. He wanted to regret drawing more blood, but Jimmy was obviously in a blood haze and was fighting on instinct alone. If Victor didn't put him down fast, Logan might try to cut off his head.

Rearing back from the sudden slash to his chest, Logan pulled his claws out of Victor's palm in another spray of blood. Before Logan could act again, both of them were rolling on the floor like to spitting tomcats. Lamps were sacrificed, duffle bags were rolled over, and comic books were covered in a thin spray of blood as the tussle dragged over the hotel floor. It was luck alone that Victor finally got a leg up and kicked Logan into a wall. He then was rushing for the needle, ready to put down the rage-fueled x-weapon, when the creak of the bathroom door opening distracted him.

Victor glanced up just in time to see a dripping wet Laura standing in the bathroom door, her clothes still completely on her and sodding wet. He might have questioned that if it wasn't for the four silver claws at her side, eyes wide as they tried to decide who to stab first.

Fucking-bloody-balls-tastic … she had claws like papa and they were probably going to be aimed at him in thirty-plus seconds as well. Huh, why did she only have two on each hand?

He never got to dwell on the poorly timed question when Logan was suddenly bounding across the room like a bobcat. He was spry for someone who was half-dead two minutes ago. Victor, looking for the syringe, tried to get to his feet to grab it and at least take down the runt first and then deal with the tiny terror, when a claw was suddenly in his calf. He roared and tried to swipe backward.

Logan's claws pulled out of the other mutant/s leg as he tried to dodge, but Victor's claws managed to draw blood again.

Yet, before Victor could use that time to dive towards the needle again, that fucking heavy skeleton was on top of Victor again … three blades right into his lung.

 _Kukuu!_ A wet choking noise filled the room.

F-fuck. Eh. Who needed air anyway.

Victor, trying to drag in another breath, didn't even get to try and kick off the pain in the ass brother when Logan showed off his other set of claws … he was aiming for Victor's throat. Sabretooth had never tested the theory, for obvious reasons, but he was sure decapitation was the only way to kill either of them.

Huh. Maybe he was going to die first.

Yet, before Victor could even bring up a defense, there was a feminine growl behind the both of them, Jimmy gasping and reaching for his back an instant later. Both of the brothers turned in time to see Laura standing behind them both, eyes confused and yet painfully determined … an empty syringe in her hand.

Logan, trying to pat the back of his shoulder and stall the injection's effect, looked hurt and yet seemed to come back to himself. "Laura … how could … why?"

And yet Logan knew, he understood why she had done it as his mind came back to him yet his vision faded. He was now like Charles. He was sick like Charles … and she had tried her best to make sure he got his medicine. How the tables had turned indeed. Then, before he could even question what the fuck Victor was doing here, he passed out on top of Sabretooth, his claws sinking in deeper.

The awkward silence that followed after was almost painful for Victor and yet, the claws still deep in his chest, were far more agonizing. Somehow, he managed to wave the girl over, gasping as he choked on his own blood. Fucking Jimmy and his heavy ass skeleton. "Hey - _huu_ \- brat - _huhhhh_ \- wanna - _cuhhd_ – help an – _gukahh_ \- uncle – _gghuuuh_ – out – _ku_ – and - _huu_ \- get these – _huuhm_ \- claws – _uh_ -outta – _kkk_ – my – _uhhhhhhh_ – chest?"

Laura, looking at the syringe in hand and then back at the two men covered in blood on the floor, seemed to contemplate the issue. She didn't even get to take two steps across the floor, though, when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Okay, it was more like a kick on the door.

With a groan, the wooden barrier splintering open in an instant, a man in a red full body suit that had a maid's outfit over the top of it, stepping into the room with guns drawn, "Halt! This is the maid service! I heard a disturbance and have come for your towels!"

Despite the stupidity of how Deadpool was dressed in both his red leotard and a french maid outfit, the man managed to make himself even more irritating, "Fuck, sweet-tits, you're having an orgy on a filthy hotel floor and didn't even invite me."

Not that Deadpool got a reply, Laura taking his casual waving of guns as a threat and lashing out with her claws.

"Ahh … she got my masturbating hand!"

XXX

Paw07: Why Wade?! Why do you keep invading my chapters?! This is supposed to be a family story and angst. Not a … whatever this is. Then again, I couldn't help myself … I recommend Deadpool Vol. 4 Monkey Business if anyone hasn't read it. If you have … you totally get the maid outfit reference. XD


	4. Oncoming Traffic

Chapter 4: Oncoming Traffic

Victor's nails dug into the steering wheel, his fangs baring themselves to the windshield of his SUV. He couldn't take much more of this madness, especially since he hadn't gotten any sleep thanks to Jimmy's little tantrum. If he heard one more thing out of the backseat, he was going to pull over and so help him…

"Ow! You bit me! You little shit in midget skin, stop stealing all the peanut butter crackers! Eat the cheese ones. They taste like ass."

"Grrr."

"Now the cheese wiz is yours too?! That came out of sweaty ass shorts, just so you know. I was keeping it butt temperature for perfect mouth consumption. Get you own ass cheese … like those crackers."

There was some more rocking in the back seat, what sounded like kicks and punches, grunts coming from both of them. Victor's eye twitched, madness threatening to completely consume him. He couldn't take much more of … whatever the fuck this was.

"Did you just bite me! You little savage turd blossom. I hope you choke on that ass cheese!"

The girl growled in turn, her mouth obviously full since it was muffled, and then there was more fighting in the backseat and then a _shhhnk_ noise filled the car, likely Laura drawing her claws, and suddenly orange globs of string cheese explode everywhere … including the side of Victor's head and parts of the windshield.

Victor winced and growled as he slowly reached up with clawed hands and tried to wipe the ass cheese off of his face. Oh, that was it! That was it!

"Children!" roared Victor into the back seat, nearly causing an accident as he turned back and tried to swipe at the two mutants. "I will stop this vehicle and maim both of you if you don't fucking stop it!"

Wade, turned around like a pretzel as cheese and various other foodstuffs dipped off at him, looked at Laura who currently had a foot in the older man's gut and teeth in one of his legs. "Well, you heard the man. You don't want him to break out the BDSM equipment to beat us, now do you?"

Laura looked confused, giving Victor almost a puppy dog pout. Victor went red, disgusted and almost enraged enough to jump in the back seat and kill Wade once or twice before they crashed. Instead, he focused on getting as far away from the Logan doppelganger as they currently could.

He pointed his clawed finger at Wade and in a tone that sent most armored men running, growled, "Any more filth out of your mouth with the pup around and I'll rip your tongue out."

He then glared down at Laura, "And you, pup, should eat some real food. There is some goddamn real food in the bag. Eat some."

Laura, releasing her teeth from Wade's leg, surprisingly pouted like a normal child for once as she flopped back into her seat. For a blessed sixty seconds, there was silence. Victor almost sighed in relief until Wade's irritating voice dragged him back to reality kicking and screaming, "Daddy, why did you hit mommy and why is he unconscious and tied up in the back seat? Are we getting a new feral mommy."

Wade, of course, was commenting about the bound and drugged Jimmy in the back.

Victor growled and resisted the urge to cross the median and end it all by hitting oncoming traffic. Instead, he looked into the rearview mirror, right at Laura, and said, "Brat … I want to you to stab him right in the thigh."

He was almost proud of her when she did as he asked … despite all the blood and ass cheese that ended up on the floorboards.

XXX

Paw07: This chapter wasn't even supposed to exist, but then I imagined Wade on a road trip and couldn't stop myself. XD


	5. Murder House

Proofreader: Kira Kyuu

Chapter 5: Murder House

"And here is a lovely turn of the century murder house. You can still find the bloodstains and bullet holes. It also was an insane asylum for a while, then a school for orphans, and apparently, a summer camp for angst ridden suicidal teenagers. It's probably haunted as balls especially with the medical lab on the bottom level," said Wade as he stood before an irritated looking Victor and a confused Laura. Not that it was surprising, given Deadpool had somehow gotten ahold of a pencil skirt and blouse. He also had a clipboard to look the part of a realtor. Really, what was with him putting clothes over his red jumpsuit? It was … ugh, Victor's head hurt. He was sure the madness would soon be contagious.

Nonetheless, Wade signaled the girl. "Well, go sniff the place out for us, little chupacabra. Mark your territory. Just don't piss on my stuff."

The young feral glared at Wade and turned to Victor. Victor merely shrugged in that direction, "Go check it out pup, before I drag your pa in."

Laura seemed reluctant to leave him for a moment, clingy almost. Victor honestly didn't blame her. Ever since he had started cleaning Logan's wounds and keeping him drugged, she had clung to his side like a silent little guard dog. From What Victor understood from what little the girl said (who knew she could talk, right?), Logan had cared for old cue-ball, medically, and had drugged him to keep them all safe. She hadn't said so, but from what Victor could gather, the old mind reader was dead.

She was probably afraid that Logan was sick like old cue-ball had been. Not that Victor was going to let Jimmy off that easy.

Nonetheless, those dark eyes stared at Victor for a moment before Laura nodded, giving Wade a glare before she prowled forward. Creed was half surprised she didn't flip off the insane man with how the two of them had been getting on. Then again, she didn't have a middle claw.

"So … what do you think of the place?"

Sneering at Wade's irritating reenactment of a realtor, Victor bore his teeth and grumbled, "That skirt looks terrible on you. Grab the bloody bags. I'll get Jimmy."

"Nah," said Wade waving the other man off. "I am going to head out. Check out this Transgen company. Plus, I am pretty sure the author is sick of me stealing the spot light. And I'm starting to feeling like a weird uncle in this fic. So, it's probably best that I get out of dodge before she angsts or fluffs up the place."

Victor gave Wade a confused look, uncertain about what the fuck he was talking about.

"Well, see you in a few chapters, sugar tits. Wouldn't want to be yah."

Standing there, watching Wade walk away, Victor felt completely confused. For a moment, it felt like his entire life was being watched and criticized. Perhaps, his whole life was nothing but a collection of words on pages, his own thoughts collected and kept for some other being's amusement.

The older mutant immediately banished those thoughts. He didn't want to end up off his rocker like Wade, talking to invisible walls or whatever the fuck it was that made him bat-shit crazy. He was just glad the fool would be gone for a while. Then, maybe, he could pry more than a few words out of the youngest feral and maybe, finally, allow Jimmy to wake.

They needed to talk.

...

The place was in better shape on the inside, surprisingly. There was a lab or medical room in the basement. That was where he made up shop. Luckily, it seemed Wade used this place once in a while as a safe house, but why there were only beans and taco shells in the damn cupboard, Victor didn't care to know. He'd have to go out for real supplies soon, though, he could probably take Laura hunting for some red meat. Girl was skilled. Honestly, Jimmy should be teaching her this, but he would be proud to teach her.

Jimmy … just needed to rest.

Walking into the room that served as Jimmy's current residence and confinement, Victor was almost surprised when a pair of dark eyes met his. He might have worried … if Logan wasn't currently strapped to the bed. He had allowed the sedative to wear off, because it was now time to lay down the law. If Jimmy liked it or not.

"Wh-where … Victor. What's going on?" Logan's words were a drawl and tired, probably still heavy with sedative.

Victor didn't know if he should be relieved or not that his brother recognized him. Jimmy had forgotten many things, still hadn't remembered everything since the Island likely, but he seemed to remember something. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to have that conversation of: I-kind-of-killed-but-didn't-your-girlfriend-that-one-time-in-spite.

Then again, Victor could always be wrong. Maybe Logan just knew him by reputation, nothing more.

Logan's eyes lost their glazed look, anger causing him to tug on his restraints even though he was still heavily disoriented. "Where's Lllaura? Where's Laura!"

Pulling a chair up to the bed and the restrained mutant on it, Victor tugged on the leather restraints to make sure they were secure before he chose to speak. "Jimmy, calm down. Breathe. We can't have you pulling your stitches. The brat's fine. Probably trying to eat squirrels. How about you and I have a talk now instead."

"Y-you're lying. I can't smell her. I can't…" Logan growled, his eyes still unfocused until he saw the IV in his arm. Immediately, Victor's words hit him. Stitches? Stiches! He didn't need stiches. Ever. Then, he looked down. He could see bandaged under the wife-beater he had on. He also noted that he was covered in blankets to keep him warm, a collection of pills and other medical equipment on the night stand. Fuck. He did have stitches, but more importantly: _why was strapped down like loonie_? He even had these little metal coverings over his knuckles. They were likely made of adamantium give the shine of the metal. Something that Victor probably had been keeping for a while. Fucker.

Collapsing onto the bed, part of him too tired to even fight the restraints, Logan sighed, "What did you do to me, and where is Laura? How do I know you didn't hurt her?"

Victor scoffed, "Like I'd hurt my niece, Jimmy. As for why you're hurting, you are not healing right. I picked you up in a Podunk town in the middle of fucking nowhere, bleeding out. Even though you fucking stabbed me, I have been keeping your ass clothed, hydrated and your wounds clean. I fucking put up with Wade for your ass. Do you know how much patience that took?"

Logan gave Victor a weird look, "You mean Deadpool?"

"Who the fuck else?"

Logan almost chuckled, an old familiarity seeming to settle in his bones. Colossus had tried so hard to get that man to turn to the right side. Personally, Logan didn't know if he would have been able to stand the red-suited idiot in the mansion for more than three minutes before stabbing him. Charles so disliked blood all over the floors.

Oh … yeah, Charles.

The aging mutant quickly pushed those thoughts to the side, the good times now gone. Everyone seemed to be gone. Instead, he asked, "Did you stab him a few times? We had a few run ins with him, the X-Men I mean … Charles said I couldn't stab him."

Victor snorted. "Of course, I did. His mouth deserved it."

Surprisingly, both brothers chuckled, still ignoring the real issues at hand. Then, a moment of silence seemed to settle over the small medical room as both men were caught up in the past.

Looking at his claws for a moment, Victor's words were softer than usual. He knew that Jimmy had valued old cue ball. He had stuck with him in thick and thin. Jimmy probably even thought of Charles Xavier as a father figure in some ways … even though Logan was years his senior. Nonetheless, Victor asked, "Is old Xavier dead? It's just that Laura … seems clinging. I figured it had something to do with a death with the way she was speaking."

Jimmy took a deep invent, his hands becoming fists, his lips twitching. "And I killed the bastard for it. That … empty copy."

Looking away from his nails, Sabretooth found himself asking, "You mean: clone you?"

Jimmy jerked, eyes going wise. "You saw him? He isn't dead? He was hit with a truck!"

Despite how upset this was likely going to make his ailing brother, Victor slowly shook his head. "He isn't. I saw the doppelganger while you were out, but don't worry Jimmy, I have Dead-"

"WHAT! That fucker was ran over! He nearly killed me, and he's up walking around!" barked Logan, tugging at his restraints. This wasn't going how Victor wanted, but at least Jimmy remembered him and wasn't yelling about how it went down between them last. Then again, what if he didn't remember the Island?

Well, Victor didn't feel inclined to remind him.

"Untie me! I need to kill him! I will kill him!"

Logan was all but foaming at the mouth at this point, thrashing in his restraints. There was no more talking to him. Creed couldn't even explain that Deadpool was looking into Transgen.

Sighing, part of the older mutant was still surprised that he was the object of sanity here. True, it took years for him to calm down, to tame the feral rage in his blood. It had started to happen as the mutant birth rate started to decreased. Part of his mind wondered if it was somehow related, if nature was rejecting all of her creations and that one day he would be the last mutant.

He looked at Logan and then Laura, who was now standing in the doorway out of sight. Well, maybe he would be one of the last three, two if Jimmy kept this up.

Grumbling, he reached for a syringe, Jimmy seeming to come down from his rage as he watched a needle being filled, "Don't you fucking dare, Victor! Don't you fucking dare put me under again!"

Baring his teeth, grabbing the IV, Victor growled, "I told you to breathe, to not pull your stitches, Jimmy. Now, we do this my way. Say goodnight."

Coming out of it somewhat, Logan tugged even more on his restraints. "Don't, Victor! Victor! I need to kill him, and Laura-"

Already halfway through the injection, part of his mind saying this at least went better than he thought it was going to, Victor stated, "Like I said, Laura's fine; Deadpool's looking into Transgen and the copycat; and the only thing you have to worry about is healing Jimmy."

The next words burned his throat, but Creed felt that they had to be said. Maybe then Jimmy would understand. "After finding you like this, I realized that I don't want to lose my little brother again. I need you … Laura needs you."

Logan, stopped thrashing, a look in his eye. Victor didn't know if Jimmy had heard his words, heard his almost begging want to be brothers again, or if it was just the sedative. Part of him didn't want to know. His heart had never been soft, so he doubted he could start now, but Creed would be whatever Laura and Jimmy need him to be to keep their little pack alive.

Finally, Jimmy went under. Victor sighed, running his hands through his hair. Well, that went better than expected. At least this time he didn't get stabbed.

XXX

Paw07: All the wall shattering and I started fluff-angsting up the place. Victor, you big softy. :3


	6. Like Roots of a Tree

Chapter 6: Like Roots of a Tree

Victor stepped out of the murder house, as Wade had so lovingly dubbed it, looking at the tall grass that waved all around them. They definitely were in or near the Bread Basket. He couldn't help but wonder where exactly Logan had been heading to begin with. He would have to ask him when he finally calmed down.

Speaking of baby-brother, the last he checked, Jimmy was still asleep but would probably be awake in a few hours. If so, he figured the best way to try and warm up his sibling into a normal conversation was the good old-fashioned way: through his stomach. Even as the decades passed, whenever Jimmy was angry at him for one thing or another, Creed always managed to butter him up with some good old fashion rabbit and mushroom stew … or beer. Nonetheless, those few years after Jimmy had killed their father and the two of them had lived in the woods, Victor had sustained them both by living in the woods. The two of them were quite the survivalists because of it.

He wondered if Logan remembered those days.

The two of them in the woods, digging a small shelter under the roots of a giant tree and living there in the winter; catching fish and picking wild vegetation to dry in the roots. Some of the mountain folks would feed or trade with them for furs, calling them wild wolf-boys. Those had been hard times, but for Victor … it had been some of his happiest days. He was away from his father and he had someone to take care of … to love.

Creed hadn't said it in decades to Jimmy since they were children even, but he remembered one winter in particular. They had been huddled around their little fire pit, faces darkened by ash as the roots of a great tree hung above them, dried meats and trinkets adorning said roots like Christmas decorations. Perhaps that was what had set Jimmy off. It had been Christmas Eve. They had met with the local trader the day before, selling furs as usual for goods they could not catch or collect, when the man asked them if they wanted to buy some Christmas candies.

Victor had, of course, bought some when he saw his brother's face thinking it would make him happy. They had some spare beaver pelts, but that wasn't the cause of Jimmy's sorrow. Apparently, Christmas had been his family's favorite holiday. It was a time to be loved.

The next two days, Jimmy had been quiet and then, before that fire as they roasted some nuts to celebrate, the younger mutant started to weep. He wept like it was the end of the world. He cried so hard that Victor had even pulled him awkwardly into a hug, rubbing his back as tears soaked into his shoulder. He hadn't known what to say at the time … emotions had never been his thing.

" _Why are we even celebrating?! We have no family! Everyone hates us! My own mother … she … she doesn't even want me_!" cried his little brother, burrowing into the larger boy's embrace.

Victor wasn't used to hugs or comfort, but he did care about Jimmy. So, he had said what he felt, even though his language never felt elegant enough. _"Because … we are a family, Jimmy. We are brothers. You love me … and I love you. That's all we need, is each other. You won't be getting rid of me."_

Jimmy had started laugh-sobbing at that, holding on even tighter to one of the first real hugs he had gotten in months. And there they remained, the nuts burned, as they settled down for the night. They had cuddled together for warmth under doe-skins, like two wolves in winter, promising to fight and live for each other.

Remembering that moment, Victor recalled why one of his favorite books of all time was Peter Pan. He wished they had never had to fully grow up. For, with children, love is given so easily, unconditionally. It was hard for Victor to trust, to love as he grew older, his scars just under his skin, but now he would try to open up again. If only for her: Laura. Kids needed affection and shit like that. Also, few were the days left in which her love would be given freely. Victor knew if he won over Laura, so would he win back Jimmy. His pack. His family.

Looking out again at the tall grass, Creed whistled hoping to catch the young feral's attention. The girl had been quite attached to the outdoors now that she was no longer being chased everywhere. For that, he was glad. You could take the Sabretooth out of the wild, but never the wild out of the Sabretooth.

Almost comically, Laura popped up out of the grass like a fawn that had been blending in with the grass. She had likely been catching grasshoppers again.

Waving the girl over, he waited until she was on the steps before he asked, "Girl, do you want to go hunting? There aren't many supplies in this safe-house and your pa has to eat if we want to keep him healthy."

As usually, the girl was silent, those intense brown eyes burrowing into Victor's gaze before she nodded simply as if waiting for direction. Victor grunted and started forward, thinking to himself: what a good little soldier. Yes, he had noticed in the slight skirmishes with Deadpool that she had some kind of training. Perhaps, one day, when he had felt the girl out a little more for her temperament, he would see how far her combat training had gone. For, like her pa and uncle, she was promised a life of violence. It was not the nature of a predator to ever back down.

Luckily, they were not far from the river, trees in number popping up like stragglers until they were in the woods, trees competing for space. They started with foraging first, collecting morsels and other types of edible mushrooms they happened upon. Victor knew from personal experience which ones were not edible, having suffered the consequences when he was young. He even took the time to show Laura how to create simple rope traps for rabbits and other small critters, but the best part was when he picked up the trail of a deer, neat little hoof prints in the mud.

He didn't even have to ask for her to be quiet as they both crept through the dead leaves, carefully stepping over twigs like well-practiced predators as they used the trees like camouflage. They were nearly on top of a small doe when he turned to meet the girl's gaze. His words were barely a husky breath when he asked her, "Do you know how to kill, girl?"

In answer, Laura's claws sprang from her fists with a _skiffff_ noise. The deer's head immediately popped up and it looked around for a moment, looking ready to bolt. Luckily, it did not see them and slowly returned to its earlier business of grazing.

Frowning, knowing he was going to have to tell her to be quieter with those claws next time, the older mutant then whispered, "Good. Now, you go left and I go right. If one of us spooks her, it's the other's job to take her down."

Laura … had indeed killed before. She moved like a bobcat, far more liquid in her movements than Jimmy or even Victor himself. She had hopped upon the creature like a lioness, her claws spraying blood upon the damp ground and the side of her face. The creature was down and dead before Victor even made it to the clearing. His niece, looking up at him with droplets of blood on her face, seemed to wait for approval.

Victor merely nodded. "Good job, girl. Your pa and us get venison tonight. Now, let's use those claws to gut her. We'll skin her when we get back."

The girl was a great study, quick and far more efficient than Jimmy had been as a boy. She was too small to drag the carcass home, though. So, Victor slung it over his shoulders allowing the girl to wrangle any small creatures caught in their traps. The sun was starting to bow to the moon when they finally made their way back to the safe house, Victor instructing the girl how to smell the wind so they could find their way back.

Though, it was with a sinking heart, that Victor immediately noticed the door was open in the distance … and that Logan was tripping down the path, hoarsely calling out for Laura.

Letting the deer drop, Victor was soon running through the tall grass towards his brother before he could find the SUV in a nearby shed.

Great, just what he needed, more stab wounds.

XXX

Paw07: I love the mental image I have of their tree-home as children, the roots hanging above them. I want to draw that.

Regardless, uncle-niece bonding time! Yay, mushroom hunting. A personal favorite of mine when I was a child. Sorry if the chapter was sad-fluff, but so is the ballad of Logan's life.


End file.
